in the arsehole of diogenes

NEO-HERACLITUS_____________Qweir Notionsin the arsehole of Diogenes:weBlog of a septuagenarian Binge-thinker sinceFebruary 2008..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

Cosmetic.

I have always hated make-up.
Thus I hated circuses not only for their irreverence
to beautiful animals, but for the horrible.
deeply distressing, depressing clowns.
Yet I did not dislike Punch and Judy shows on the beach.

The word Cosmetic comes from the Greek word Kosmos,
which means 'the appearance of things'.
I think that when I was a baby,
some woman in grotesque cake
make-up might have frightened me.
And thus, eventually, I made the mistake
of drifting towards an æsthetic and hence
superficial homosexuality.

What I meant by 'superficial homosexuality' is that I never had that early feeling that most homosexual men seem to have : of being sexually different, of having a deep-down attraction for men. In fact, as a child, I was a precocious explorer of little girls' anatomy. At school my fumblings with other boys were neither exceptional nor passionate. My attraction to/by men came very late in life : when I was almost 40, long after my only heterosexual relationship ended in tears, which is when I transferred my emotional (b ut of course not sexual) commitment to dogs.

Æsthetic homosexuality is simply a sensual metasexual admiration of handsome males as animals, without the taboo against that which can be rampant in some macho societies, especially those with a palpable fear of men forming couples.

This 'video' is a very good talk aimed at "normals". Thank you very much, MGTOW.

My loathing is definitely not for my strongly-feminist and minimuscular self. On the contrary, I have felt pretty happy with myself and good in my skin and in my head for most of my adult life, aand especially since I found that several attractive men found me attractive, thus cancelling out the inferiority I ("a weedy type") was made to feel at a school which had compulsory, nasty competitive 'sports' - an infringement of my human right to sit in front of the fire reading Gorky, Zola or Kafka, none of whom featured in the school curriculum.

No, I have no self-loathing, but a passionate contempt and dislike for my very nasty species.